No matter who you voted, or didn’t vote for, slinging hate & blaming another for your sadness is not making this country nor planet a better place to live. Neither a President nor any one human can ever be your saviour. And it is dangerous to give that kind of power to any one human being.

A president can open the door, but we are the answer, the only answer to everything we see in front of us. The only way for you to have a voice & not get swallowed up by the globalists is to find a way to make a real difference in this world & do it.

I was by The Hudson River when a woman with a scrappy, wet little puppy covered from head to toe in Hudson mud began tugging madly at his leash in my direction. I caught his owner’s eye and removed my headphones to hear her say: “Would you mind? Would you mind giving him some love? he’s been so uneasy today, and I don’t know why. Just craving some affection & love & I just know he won’t calm down ’till someone gives him some attention”

Me, as I walk over to the little soggy spastic creature: “I think most of us feel exactly the same way right now so I totally get it little one.” And as I petted the water logged, mud splattered creature he began to calm down & soon was leaning motionless against my leg in a little mop-like stupour.

Girl: “Thank you so much. He is so much better right now. You’re the only person who stopped”

omg the kids tonight – adorable. I wish there was footage I could share with you all. One little girl, napping, curled up in her dad’s arms, eyes poking shyly out from under her bangs cuddled there, to my right through song #1 but when I switched to song #2, (“La Bamba” ) I noticed the crowd pointing & smiling & grabbing their phones. I turned & there she was, sitting straight up like a rod & clapping her hands over her head in perfect time, squiggling madly in her dad’s arms.

NYC is a city of chaos. Chaos is the rhythm of its heartbeat. Anyone who says otherwise hasn’t lived here. But where else on this planet can one live in the midst of such immense chaos all swirling in such seemingly perfect harmony perched on one tiny piece of rock. HK ~

Any busker will tell you, there are days when you wonder if barely anyone heard you at all in the hours you performed your heart out. And then there are days like today when a random stranger comes up to you on the street in a mad, huge city like NYC to tell you they heard you underground, how much they loved listening & asks when you’ll be there again â€ª#â€ŽBuskingloveâ€¬â€ª#â€Žmovedâ€¬â€ª#â€ŽNYCâ€¬

“I was upstairs and heard you singin’ from all the way up there and I swore you was a big black woman from what I was hearin’. But here you is….tiny little white you. You got some kinda voice on you girl!” – Man to me on Uptown A C E â€ª#â€ŽBuskâ€¬

It felt like 100 degrees underground this evening & still, this guy….one of my two favourite maintenance workers displayed in front of me, a little miracle that ’caused me to stop playing. And I never stop playing save the NYPD threatening wrongful arrest. Thought the heat had left most everyone on the platform close to comatose, only able to nod or grin their approval as opening a bag or purse risked being even more miserable than they already were.Through the heat, this guy continued his diligent sweeping & picking up trash. He’d finished the platform & had gotten to the stairs with one foot up on the lowest step, broom in hand, handled dustpan in the other, ready to sweep them clear of debris when a homeless guy, toothless, hunched over & skinnier than most, came up behind him. I kept on singing, playing & watching, ’till I saw the maintenance guy, sensing someone behind him, turned around, look at the emaciated homeless man in the eye, nodded, tucked his broom & dustpan under his arm, reach into his pants pocket & pulled out his wallet. He then proceeded to pull out a dollar bill & give it to the skinny, toothless guy standing in front of him. I stopped playing, chills were running up & down my arms when my eye’s met those of the maintenance worker’s. I touched my heart, smiled a very small, private smile & nodded.Â He awkwardly & sheepishly took in the confirmation as if he were far more comfortable with anonymity than acknowledgment and quickly resumed his sweeping.

This guys’ job is not fun, not glamorous, it smells, it’s hot, it’s cold, it’s loud & I can pretty much guarantee he’s not living high on the hog. It was a 100 friggin’ degrees underground today & still he took the time & effort to do this.

This is why I go underneath the streets of NYC, to witness love like this in action This, my ‘family’, on a daily basis, displays such random, selfless acts of love & generosity, things that never make the news or the headlines, but one by one change lives & move energy.

I hold vast love & appreciation for what I am allowed to witness on a regular basis under the streets of NYC. And I hope everyone gets a chance to be the audience to such selfless love on an ongoing basis in their lives as well. It is Grace, in action.